


Talons in my Heart

by Arieko



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Overwatch - Freeform, Team Talon (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 20:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14292492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arieko/pseuds/Arieko
Summary: When Dr. Angela Ziegler is kidnapped during an intergal part of Overwatch's illegal reform, the team is eager to get her back. But when they finally track her down the change is almost too much to bear. But not all will give up, maybe just one person can complete the mission thought to be impossible... I suck at summaries.





	Talons in my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> A story idea I thought of in Discord. Speaking of which you guys should all join it! Hanamercy for life!
> 
>  
> 
> <https://discord.gg/h4dXC8c>

_Columbia, outskirts of Bogotá_

_June 07, 2076_

_0819_

* * *

 

The sun’s rays split the low hanging clouds of the damp morning as the remnants of rain quickly made way to the humid air. A muggy and sticky aura seemed to cling to everything within the small makeshift camp that appeared to be in a bustle. Men, women, and even children lined up in seemingly no particular order as people dressed in dirty white lab coats attempted to herd them in the proper areas. Needless to say, it was an early morning chaos within the encampment as shouts, cries, and mixed languages all seemed to mix over one another.

But out of all the clamoring and running around happening in the camp, there was one person, dressed in a white lab coat like the others, who seemed to be swarmed around the most. Her usual pristine blonde hair seemed a bit dulled as it was tied up into a messy ponytail, her bright blue eyes almost seemed gray as she regarded her associates who seemed to ask an endless amount of questions, and her confident posture that always seemed to exhibit a radiance like no other, was deduced to a tired slouch.

Dr. Angela Ziegler or better yet known by Mercy was on another of her expeditions out in the still war-torn world. Ever since she went back to the illegally active Overwatch after the recall, she managed to still go out and proceed to do what she was doing beforehand. Heading out into the world and helping the victims of the Omnic crisis that happened all those years ago when time permitted. After some careful… persuasion, both Morrison and Winston both agreed to let her  and one other of her choosing go. Though she understood the hesitation on their part, as Talon had been making some very unusual moves as of late.

But that wouldn’t stop Dr. Ziegler from helping the downtrodden people of the world. The ones who couldn’t look out for themselves. She wouldn’t let a threat like Talon keep her from that. She wouldn’t let them take that away from her.

Wiping sweat from her brow, Angela tried to listen to what each one of her colleagues were saying to her while they walked through the humid camp. Various languages assaulted her ears as the doctors from different nations all calmored for her advice. She was used to the usual chaos, but after being awake for more than forty-eight hours non-stop helping patients and nurses, her brain was processing things much slower.

Though as they reached a gray tent, slightly bigger than the rest that surrounded it, Dr. Zeigler held up a gloved hand which silenced all the chatter directed at her in an instant. The slight peace of quiet threatened to bring a smile to her lips but she doubted she even had the energy to do so if she wanted. Hell, she could even barely continue standing.

“Doctor Raynor, put in a call from the local hospitals for more supplies, we can secure more IVs that way quickly. Shiela, get with the local villages and see if we can’t muster up a few guides to survey the surrounding area for more wounded.” Angela tiredly ordered before she went on to continue telling the others what to do.

As she finished up with her fellow doctors and nurses only one person remained at her side. With a look of exhaustion that must have bordered her own stood Lúcio Correia dos Santos. Standing a head shorter than Angela, the Brazilian freedom fighter opted to join Angela on her excursion when he found out about it. A recent addition to Overwatch and interested in helping others just like she, Mercy was never one to turn down the much needed help.

Though the man looked just as tired as she, his trademarked dreadlocks were in disarray and his own lab coat was dirtied with blood, dirt, and grime. The man leaned his body against the tent they stood by as they watched the occupants of the camp disperse about in the chaos.

For how long they stood there, Dr. Zeigler didn’t know, but when her stomach growled, it pulled her back to her own needs. Ones that she couldn’t avoid any longer.

“When was the last time you ate?” Lucio asked after a moment, fatigue lining his voice. “Or slept?”

Angela turned to look at him, not bothering to hide how tired she really was.

“I think I had an energy bar right after the surgery on that wounded soldier in the last batch of people who came through.” She replied, vaguely remembering the details.

“Tha- That was yesterday morning, Angela…”

Exhaling a shallow breath, the blonde doctor let out a small moan.

Lucio gave her a worried look before pushing off the tent he leaned on.

“Go get some rest, Angie.” He told her, taking a backwards step towards the center of the camp. “I’ll try to scrounge up some food for you, but you better be in bed when I get back. We don’t need you of all people collapsing from fatigue!” He finished, his bright smile almost making Angela herself return the gesture.

She nodded as she watched the man vanish around a corner, his dreadlocks bouncing with every step. Lucio had been invaluable with his help. She had even considered asking him to help her with her research when they returned to Gibraltar, but that would have to wait until later.

“Much later.” Mercy muttered to herself as she cast one last glance towards the sky, noticing that rain clouds were on their way in the distance. Again.

Turning to head inside the tent, she was greeted with cool circulated air as the air-conditioner was kicked on thanks to the generator hooked up to it. Though Angela didn’t ask for the luxuries her personal tent provided, the others always somehow managed to make it happen while she was working. Glancing over the room, The swiss woman stretched her arms and legs before shedding the dirty lab coat from her torso, letting it fall right on the ground before shedding out of the rest of her clothes. She opted to wear a pair of sweats and a t-shirt bearing her old college mascot that littered the floor near some storage boxes. She wasn’t usually so messy but these past few days have been hectic.

Making her way to the large cot in the corner of the room to lie down, she noticed that her handheld terminal that rested on it was blinking blue, telling her that she had unread messages. She knew it was probably Commander Morrison or Winston asking for an update like they usually did but she was much too tired to deal with either of them at the moment. She made a mental note to return their call when she woke up.

Finally swinging her feet over the edge of her cot, she contemplated reading a book as she waited for Lucio to return with food, though she honestly just didn’t feel that hungry. She knew she should eat but right in this moment she’d much rather sleep. She had pushed herself much too hard this past week here in Columbia. Between the country never fully recovering from the omnic crisis, opportune Warlords attacking helpless surrounding villages, and the food supply shortages, it was almost one of the worst places she’s been as of late. But it also strengthened her resolve knowing that she and others were still willing to help.

Just like in the reformed Overwatch.

Though many former agents didn’t answer the recall, new ones did. Winston had his eye on many potential candidates who were arriving everyday for the past couple of months ever since. With even Lucio being one of the first of them to arrive. There were others though that even she could see the potential in; like Aleksandra Zaryanova, or Zarya for short as she constantly reminded Angela.

Hearing the pitter patter of rain drops ruffled Angela from her thoughts as she listened to the light rain tapping against the exterior of the tent. She knew that things on the outside would only get more hectic as they were bombarded with rain again. Though she was almost positive everyone would be trying to find shelter in the many tents from the storm. It’s almost been raining constantly for the past few days. It made her feel sluggish, especially with the heat that went with it. It was always humid and miserable a stark contrast to her homeland.

It was then they she heard her tent flap open, letting in some of the sound of the rain picking up outside.

Too tired to even turn her head to look over, Mercy remained lying down on the cot, waiting for Lucio to announce what he brought. But the only sound was the slight whirring of the a/c and the tappings of the rain. As seconds turned to what almost felt like minutes, Angela cracked open an eye and turned her head in the direction of the center of her tent.

Immediately she knew that whoever stood there wasn’t Lucio. The figure was tall, too tall to be him. A feminine figure dressed in a black skin tight uniform complete with a full face helmet with glowing red holes where her eyes would be, Mercy wondered if she was dreaming for a moment, as neither person said a word while they looked at each other.

It wasn’t until the figure put a hand to her helmet that Angela noticed that she seemed to be communicating with someone. It was then that Angela felt adrenaline course in her veins.

“Who are you?” Angela asked, her voice raised though fear evident in her tone as she sat up in her cot. “H- How did you get in here?”

The red eyes of the mask never left her own eyes but the figure said nothing, as she dropped her hand from the communicator in her helmet. Reaching down to a holster strapped to her leg, the black clad woman pulled what looked like some kind of syringe, though the needle seemed to be much too large to be a normal surgical one like she was used to using herself. But the most unsettling thing was the liquid inside that seemed to glow just as bright as the unwavering red eyes of the helmet that stared at her.

Angela felt her own eyes widen as she felt herself shrink away from the figure subconsciencly. She felt a shiver travel down her spine in terror as the figure in front of her took another calm step towards her, almost unfazed.

But a thought rang through Angela’s mind.

_“These people still need me.”_

She was still needed in this world. And she wouldn’t go down without a fight!

Feeling her training kick in, the Swiss woman lept off her cot in an attempt to run out of the tent. The moment she did so however, the black-clad woman proved to be faster, jumping in front of Angela, blocking her path.

Hopping backwards on her heels, the Doctor jumped out of the mysterious figure’s reach before looking around the tent. It was much smaller now that her heart beat in fear but as her eyes darted around in an attempt to find something to defend herself with, she clasped the only thing near her, leaning against one of the many storage containers.

Her Caduceus Staff.

Reaching for the hefty rod, Angela grasped it’s cool handle and swung the makeshift weapon around her body, not even bothering to look at where she was aiming.

The metallic thud and the painful vibration in her hands confirmed that she at least hit her target though. Turning her eyes downwards, she was met with piercing gold ones that stared back at her, full of hate.

“Merde*!”

Realizing the word as a french cuss, Mercy instead felt her body freeze in place. She stared at the face, now uncovered by the mask that was knocked to the ground from her strike. It was so familiar. The alien blue skin with unwavering golden eyes, combined with that french accent…

“A- Amélie?” Mercy yelped, her voice quivering with surprise and fear, her grasp on the staff faltering. “Is tha-”

But that was all that she managed the say. Before the doctor could even shout in surprise, the french assassin was on her in a flash. Getting to her feet and lunging at the now defenseless woman, the infamous Talon assassin placed her target in a chokehold, easily overpowering the blonde. With one swift motion, she took the syringe she was given and jabbed the needle into the pale skin of the doctor, quickly feeling the struggling woman in her hold go limp.

“Shhh,” The blue skinned woman urged in an eerily calm voice. “Ne luttez pas, allez dormir*.”

Mercy felt herself losing the will to resist as her arms slumped and her head teetered forward, her loose bangs shielding her eyes from the what little light there was in the tent. Everything was blurring as she felt her earlier adrenaline quickly dissipating. She was just so tired. All her worries, her hunger, even her own wellbeing, all of it didn’t matter anymore. She was too tired to fight anymore.

All she wanted to do was let that encroaching darkness consume her and sleep as the roar of thunder sounded in the distance...

* * *

 

* **_Merde_ ** : Shit.

* **_Ne luttez pas, allez dormir_ ** : Don’t struggle, go to sleep.


End file.
